


The Principal's Office

by SecretSecret



Category: Cobra Kai (Web Series), Karate Kid (Movies)
Genre: Accidental Plot, Accidentally soft Johnny, Chair Sex, Desk Sex, Gender-Neutral Pronouns For Reader, Lots of Sex, Oral Sex, Other, Porn With Plot, Reader-Insert, johnny got his shit together early, whoops
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-17
Updated: 2020-11-17
Packaged: 2021-03-10 01:20:14
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,964
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27605483
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SecretSecret/pseuds/SecretSecret
Summary: Attending parents' night at your kid's school can be a drag, especially when the school principal is catching your eye for all the wrong reasons.
Relationships: Johnny Lawrence/Reader
Comments: 19
Kudos: 35





	The Principal's Office

**Author's Note:**

  * For [KingKarate](https://archiveofourown.org/users/KingKarate/gifts).



> I'm diverging from my usual LawRusso energy here to write a reader insert, of all things. This goes out to the Unofficial Johnny Lawrence Thirst Club, without whom this fic wouldn't exist. Thanks very much especially to @KingKarate for the encouragement! It's my first time posting any of my heavily-nsfw writing; please go easy on me.
> 
> Now with moodboard! Link to tumblr since I don't know how to embed: https://blinkasaurus.tumblr.com/post/635070252269584384/the-principals-office-by-secretsecret-rating-e

_ I wonder how long he’s had that dusty tweed jacket. It looks ‘80s vintage, but he’s actually managed to wear a hole in one elbow. Late ‘70s, perhaps?  _ You regarded the balding, aged history teacher at the front of the class, his monotone making it impossible to keep your attention on whatever he was saying.

The groan of folding chairs squeaking against over-waxed vinyl flooring tile broke your reverie. As you blinked rapidly, the other parents in the classroom left their seats and began filing out the door. You gathered your things to follow, then consulted your printed schedule. Looked like that had been the last teacher talk, which just left the principal’s address and reception, located in the gymnasium.

Ugh. That was across the school from here. You shouldered your bag and walked out into the hall quickly, realizing the history teacher had gone over time ( _ of course _ ), and that you only had a few minutes to get there.  _ At least we’re nearly finished. _

Your relief was short-lived as someone coming up behind you knocked into your shoulder-  _ hard _ . The folder of information you’d collected from each of your kid’s middle school teachers flew out of your hand and scattered across the floor. 

“Shit!” you cursed loudly, kneeling down to collect everything. Just what you needed. The one talk of the night you wanted to see, and now some asshole in a hurry was making you later still. You rushed to grab the papers, stuffing them haphazardly back into their folder. You glared at the retreating form that had run into you, still charging down the hall. He was a tall man in a well-fitting blue suit, blond hair gleaming in the hall lights. 

“Asshole,” you muttered under your breath. He must be one of those rich parents that could afford not to give a shit. He’d been unnecessarily rude, broad shoulders and tapered waist notwithstanding. Maybe after the principal’s address you could give him a piece of your mind.

You made it to the gymnasium with seconds to spare, rushing to take a seat toward the back. As you caught your breath, a stern looking woman of sixty or so approached the podium, introducing herself.

“Hello and good evening. I am Vice Principal Wendy Garrett, and we hope you’ve enjoyed getting to know your child’s teachers this evening. Curriculum and course work are top priorities here, and we’re glad to share with you our plans for this exciting school year. Before we wrap up, I’d like to introduce Principal Lawrence to discuss some important school-wide initiatives and policies.” 

You joined in the polite applause, but stopped abruptly as the principal walked up to the podium. Your eyes narrowed, and you sat up a little straighter in your seat. It was the dickhead that knocked into you in the hallway.

“Hi everyone. I’m Principal Lawrence, and I’d like to discuss our work with bullying prevention and response.” 

You’d intended to listen closely to this part. It’s why you were here, in this school, wasn’t it? But you kept glaring at him instead, fuming over how this entitled ass dared to talk about bullying. Like he knew anything about it. Before you knew it, the talk was over, and you’d heard almost nothing. 

Shaking your head, you thought maybe you’d go over and tell him off. Much to your annoyance, he was already being swarmed by the painted, manicured, and lip-filled rich mom posse. You rolled your eyes. Looked like this school would be the same as the last in that way. Heaven forbid there was an attractive male teacher. If he stood still long enough, they might start ripping his clothes off, never mind the wedding rings on most of their hands.

You walked back to the refreshment table instead, dispensing yourself a styrofoam cupful of black coffee. It tasted half-decent, which was a relief. You took a bracing gulp of it and sighed.

Suddenly, a tap on the shoulder made you whirl around reflexively. Your cup nearly spilled, until a large hand covered yours, steadying it. Your eyes met the coffee savior’s, and narrowed. It was the principal.

“Hi. John Lawrence.” He offered his hand, and you shook it reluctantly. He gave a firm shake, and it thrilled up your arm involuntarily.  _ Ugh. _ He’d need more than ocean-blue eyes and strong hands to win you over. You opened your mouth to berate him, but he beat you to it. 

“I wanted to apologize for earlier, in the hallway. I was running late, but that’s no excuse. I didn’t realize you’d dropped your things. Gotta admit, all I could think about was VP Garrett taking me aside for a talking-to about tardiness.” He cracked a little grin, then saw your face and sobered again. “Really though, I’m sorry for bumping into you. Probably made you late, too. If you missed anything or you have any questions, I’m available.”

You looked over his shoulder and could see the rich mom posse, glowering a little at you. You huffed out a breath, but decided to go easy. The last thing you needed was these moms using your annoyance as gossip fodder. 

“Thanks for apologizing. Yeah, I’d actually hoped to hear more about your policies toward bullying. We moved districts this year to give my child a fresh start. They had a really rough time in fifth grade, and I didn’t want them around those kids anymore. I heard you take a bit of a different approach here.”

He glanced back. The mom posse’s murmurs were growing louder, and the annoyance showed on his face. It made you warm up to him, just a little.

“Hey listen, I know you might need to get home, but I’m free to talk in my office, if you’d like.”

You checked your watch, knowing very well that nobody was waiting on you at home tonight. “That sounds perfect.”

_____________

The rich mom posse had been miffed when you’d left the gym with him, but seemed to disperse quickly, to both of your relief. He talked all the way down the hall, explaining in detail how the school was having far better results with a program he’d piloted, focusing not only on kids being targeted by bullying, but on the kids doing it. 

“The thing we’ve learned about the kids who bully is that they’re not doing it because everything’s hunky-dory at home. They need mentors, people who can show them the right way, help them grow some emotional intelligence.”

You nodded. “You say that like you’re speaking from experience.”

He gave a look you couldn’t quite decipher. “Yeah. I was bullied myself in middle school, and it sent me down a wrong path. I went WAY the other direction in high school, and became top bully myself. It was easier than dealing with my feelings, or any of the root causes. I’m lucky I got the chance to get my life in order, because it easily could’ve gone another way.”

He reached his office door, unlocking it and following you in.

On one side, the office was typical for a principal of a public middle school, down to the tacky fake houseplant in the far corner. Over by his desk was another story. Built-in bookshelves lined that wall, filled with high-end volumes that actually seemed to be more than ornamental. The desk itself was oversized, but not cluttered, with a monitor to one side and cables for connecting a laptop. You had to admit, at least one end of the room had  _ taste _ . He offered you a chair, and sat down behind his desk. 

You leaned forward, resting an elbow on that giant desk. “I like what I’m hearing about what you’re doing with bullying here. I’ve always thought focusing only on the kids getting hurt was missing a huge part of the problem.”

He nodded. “Did you have any particular concerns with your kid?”

You went over it with him, explaining your worries. He was receptive and helpful, and you felt far more at ease after discussing it with him. You fell naturally into a conversation about his journey into childhood education after that, feeling curious about how he’d ended up here. 

“Well my plan was to become a PE teacher. I’d been into martial arts, even teaching them for a little bit, and I thought that was the natural way to work with kids and encourage their confidence and discipline. I knew I wanted to work on a more effective anti-bullying program. But going through the teaching course, I actually got pulled into teaching English and Literature instead. I loved it. Never paid attention to it in high school, but it really captured me later on. I actually still teach advanced English classes for seventh and eighth grades, which is why I was basically running down the hall when I knocked into you.”

“Oh god, they make you do those classroom talks too?”

“VP Garrett insists. She runs a tight ship here.” 

You laughed. “I thought it was  _ your _ ship?”

“In name only. Don’t be fooled!” 

You smiled, and checked your watch again. It was getting late, but you found you didn’t mind. 

He’d noticed. “Do you need to get going? I’ve been talking my mouth off over here.”

“No, I’m fine. My child is with their dad tonight, my ex. It’s his weekend starting Friday, so he asked to take over a day early, rather than me getting a sitter.”

“I’ve got a kid with an ex, too. He’s in college now, really doing great, but it wasn’t easy, some of the time.”

“Yeah, for sure. At least my ex is a pretty decent dad, if not the best partner.” You wanted to change the subject, and glanced up at the bookshelves behind him. “So. These are your books? An impressive collection.”

He looked a little sheepish, and a little proud. “Yeah. It’s kind of my thing. I like having them here to loan out to students who are interested.”

You scooted your chair closer to the shelves, looking them over with a discerning eye. They were nice copies, many of them leatherbound, some a bit aged. None of them struck you as incredibly valuable, but it was clearly a well-loved collection. “Brave of you, loaning any of these to middle schoolers.”

“Ah, come on. They’re good kids. And besides, I only lose, oh, three to five irreplaceable first editions a year.” He tried to look serious, but quickly broke out laughing, and you joined in, leaning closer to him in spite of yourself.

As your laughter died down, he locked eyes with you, his gaze darkening. You hadn’t noticed moving that close, but it took only the barest lean for him to brush his lips over yours, gently at first, then firmer. Strong fingers laced into the hair at the back of your neck. His tongue slid across your bottom lip and your jaw relaxed in response, opening for him. 

He deepened the kiss, but your mind remained offline. Your mouth was soft and pliant under his, but you weren’t responding yet, too overwhelmed with your own reaction to his advance.  _ God, it’s been a long time. _ After what could’ve been a century or just a few moments, he pulled back. 

“Sorry, um. Not very professional of me.” He gave an apologetic little grin, reaching back to ruffle the hair at the back of his head. Clearly he thought he’d misread the situation. You’d finally started coming back online, though, and you knew precisely what you wanted. 

Reaching out, you grabbed onto the knot of his red silk tie and pulled hard, meeting his lips for a rough kiss. His surprise lasted only a second, then his arms circled your waist, hands sliding beneath your ass and lifting you bodily from your seat into his lap. His office chair tilted back dangerously as you tangled your fingers in his hair, licking desperately into his mouth. The floodgates were open, and the last thing you wanted was for him to go introspective on you. When your teeth sank into his bottom lip and ripped a little gasp from the back of his throat, vindication flooded your chest. He wanted you, and it felt  _ amazing _ .

You could feel his hands kneading your ass and working higher, untucking your button-down from the waistband of your jeans. You broke away from his mouth to kiss along his jaw and down his neck, drawing a deep, satisfying moan from him as his head fell back onto the chair. You loosened his tie and flicked his top button open, tonguing and nipping where his neck met his shoulder. The sounds he made under you were incredibly satisfying, some deep, others higher and more breathy. All of it felt like it lit you on fire inside, and you ground yourself down against his lap in response. He was already hard for you.

His hands traced up under your shirt, skimming against your waist and ribs, then  _ pressing _ . You broke away from him and leaned back, taking in the sight below you. His eyes were slitted open, raking over your body heatedly. His lips were parted over slightly-bared teeth, breaths coming rapidly. The fancy silk tie hung loosely around his neck, just below two open buttons that revealed a vee of skin you wanted  _ badly _ to taste. Before you could lean back in, he sat up and pushed the jacket off of your shoulders, then worked at your buttons hungrily. His mouth trailed lower down your chest as he went, then broke away as you discarded your top. He looked you over appreciatively and you took the opportunity to rock your hips against him again, curling your lips in a smile as he met your motions with his own. 

You leaned in, slipping the silk tie off over his head and tossing it over your shoulder. Your tongue traced the top of his chest as you undid his buttons, and he was just as delicious there as you’d hoped, salty with a light sheen of sweat, smelling of some woodsy cologne and something that was uniquely him. You drank in the sight of his chest and abs—  _ god _ he was well-built. Suddenly, he was lifting you again, setting you down on the edge of his desk and standing close, between your legs. He dipped his head to kiss you again, wrapping his arms around you and encouraging you to lie back. 

The feel of his bare chest against yours was thrilling, and you couldn’t suppress a whimper as he drew back to standing. He worked quickly though, taking off your boots as you fumbled with the button on your jeans. He tugged them down and off, helping you lift your hips, leaving only your silky black underwear, already wrecked with slick. You were waiting for him to do something, to undress maybe, but he took the moment to stand and look you over, gazing at you like a starving man eyeing a meal. 

“Do you have any idea how  _ hot _ you look?” 

Your breath caught for a second, then you gave him an answering smirk. “Guess I do now.” 

You reached toward his belt, hoping to encourage him along, when he dropped to his knees instead. He lifted your knee with one hand, placing hot, open-mouthed kisses along your inner thigh. The thumb of his other hand pressed deliciously against your underwear, sliding them against your core until you were gasping. His mouth was kissing close to their edge now, and you could feel his warm breath ghosting over you. He made short work of tugging them down and off, and your breath hitched as he lowered once more, hands pinning your hips firmly in place.

His tongue swiped gently at your folds, teasing like he was working you up to it. Your hips bucked involuntarily, but he held them down. He wanted to set the pace, and you struggled to let him, tangling your fingers in your own hair to keep from grabbing his. Each touch of his tongue brought slightly more pressure than the last, and you bit your lip hard trying to contain yourself. He drew his tongue back, instead tracing with the tip of his nose from the bottom of your opening to the tip of your clit, and your hands lost their battle, lacing immediately into his sunkissed hair. He was relentless then, tonguing and sucking at your clit, giving you almost more than you could take, but still not quite enough. He knew just what he was doing, could feel you losing control as you neared the edge. Your restraint broke entirely as he released your hips and drew back just enough to murmur against you.

“Yeah, come on.” 

You took it as permission, your hips jerking toward his face as he fucked your slit with his tongue, not protesting when your hands fisted in his hair and held him there. Your hips bucked violently against his face, once, twice, and then he was tonguing your clit through the most complete orgasm you could remember. You could feel your voice ripping forth from your throat, but you were too far away to care. He slid up and laid against your chest again, working you through the aftershocks with his hand, whispering praise into your ear until you came back down. When you finally did, he gave you a grin. 

“ _ John _ ,” you breathed.

“Hey,” he smiled. “How’re you doing?” 

“I...I need…”

“What do you need?” he asked, his brow crinkling with mild concern. You leaned over to bring your lips close to his ear.

“ _ I need you to fuck me _ .”

His mouth was on yours again then, hot and urgent as he ground against you through the cloth of his trousers. Reaching down, you grabbed onto his belt and fumbled with the buckle, finally releasing it. He shoved his clothes down just far enough to free himself, then pressed against you again. The feel of him there with nothing between you was heady and glorious and not remotely enough. You reached down, stroking firmly a few times before guiding him to your entrance. He let his hips press forward, relentless but achingly slowly, and you moaned greedily as you felt yourself stretch to take in his length. He stilled for a moment, looking down at you, then bent over you and brought his lips to your ear. 

“Grab on. Tight.”

You complied, wrapping both arms around his neck and legs tightly around his waist, and he lifted you like it was easy, turning to sit you on the ledge of the built-in bookshelves behind his desk. You kept your ankles linked behind him as he pinned your wrists above your head, tight against the leatherbound volumes, and finally,  _ finally _ began to move.

It was slow at first, languid and slow and agonizing, feeling every inch of him moving back and forth inside of you. As your own little movements began mapping to his thrusts, he set a firmer, steadier pace, and you began feeling tension pooling once more, deep in your abdomen. Your breaths against his mouth turned to frantic gasps as his intensity built, his pace turning from steady to relentless. Your pleasure crested and broke again, and you were clenching and fluttering around him, clawing at his shoulders to keep upright. His control began to disintegrate, hips snapping more and more forcefully against you. When he moved back as though to pull out, you tightened your legs around him, and he gave in, coming inside of you with a groan. His forehead tipped onto your shoulder, and you ran your fingers through his hair, reluctant to part as he sighed against you. 

When his eyes met yours again, they’d softened, and looked a little concerned. You gave him a tired smile, and he relaxed a little, separating gently from you and turning back toward his desk.

“Hold on, I’ve got something around here we can use to clean up.” He produced a couple of school-branded beach towels, and handed one to you. “You wouldn’t believe the merch they’ve decided we should give away for ‘school spirit’.” 

You gave a little laugh. “Great, now I feel like even more of a creep.” He laughed too, and you both started cleaning up. You got yourself clothed again, at least, if messily. He somehow looked reasonably put-together in his suit. You noticed he was quieter, more serious.

“Hey, uh. I’m sorry. It wasn’t exactly polite of me to, y’know…” he trailed off, gesturing toward you vaguely.

“To...fuck me bare without a condom?” You gave him a wry grin.

He grinned sheepishly. “Well, without asking, at least.” 

You broke into a smile. “There’s nothing to worry about on my end. I’m over forty, still on the pill anyway, and haven’t had a partner in...longer than I’d like to say. And as far as consent, I think I was pretty clear.”

“Okay then. Nothing to worry about on my end, either.”

You couldn’t help teasing. “Oh really? You mean to say you’ve never partaken of the rabid mom posse?”

He rolled his eyes. “No. ABSOLUTELY not. The ones out cruising for it are legitimately ALL married and looking for side pieces. I’m not here to put their kids through that.” He gave a little self-deprecating smile. “To be honest, the work is a pretty big job. I haven’t made time for someone else either, for a really long time.”

“Not sure this was what you had in mind, with that first kiss.”

He broke into that grin that clenched your heartstrings. “Maybe not, but you don’t see me complaining.” He looked down, then met your eyes as his tongue swiped over his bottom lip. “Honestly, I was hoping to ask you out for a drink. Maybe get your number. Hang out sometime.”

You raised an eyebrow. “Still want to? I’ve already put out, so the thrill might be over for you.” You gave him an exaggerated wink.

He laughed, then circled his arms around your waist. “Hell yeah. Just say when.” 

“How’s tomorrow night? This is my free weekend.” 

He leaned down, giving you a light kiss. “Text me the details.” 

You traded contacts, then wished him goodnight. 

“‘Night. I’d better stay and, uh. Tidy up. Don’t want to explain myself to Vice Principal Garrett tomorrow.”

You laughed. “See you later,  _ Principal _ Lawrence.”

He rolled his eyes. “Call me Johnny.”

As you walked down the hallway away from his door, you heard an amused-yet-frustrated grumble. “Where the  _ hell _ is my tie?”

_____________

  
  


The next day was Friday, and Johnny was in early, catching up on paperwork. A knock at his office door startled him. He opened it, finding Wendy Garrett looking as stern as usual. 

“Principal Lawrence. Good morning. I wanted to discuss those reports we’re sending to the school board this afternoon—” she broke off suddenly, eyes focusing on something over Johnny’s shoulder. “Excuse me, what is  _ that _ doing there?”

Johnny turned, following her gaze to the tacky faux houseplant that towered in the corner. His red silk tie was tangled in its upper branches. The flush crept up his cheeks unbidden.

“Oh! That. I was looking for that. I, uh, took it off after parents’ night and tossed it aside. Couldn’t find it when I went to leave. Ahem. Thanks! And I’ll get those reports to you ASAP!” He unceremoniously shut the door in the vice principal’s face.

Later, you got a text from his number. It was a photo of a crumpled red tie, stuck in the upper branches of that terrible fake plant. 

_ Nearly blew it today when Garrett saw this before I did. ;) _

You smiled. It was going to be a good night.

**Author's Note:**

> Hope you enjoyed! Let me know what you think in the comments. :)


End file.
